Pause
by nevergoback
Summary: He was hurt, he was angry, but he could continue to feel that way later. / Season 4 AU, somewhere around Headhunters.
1. Chapter 1

When you were ten, your neighbours had said that you were so mature for a boy your age. You thought they were just messing around with you, and laughed every time someone pointed it out.

Until one afternoon when after class, your teacher sat you down. She looked you in the eyes, and started saying something very heartfelt, "God bless you, Kid. God bless you."

You asked her why, because you didn't see yourself that way.

She told you that she knew how you had defended your Mother's honor, watched you snatch back the card you'd made her for Father's Day from the boys who mocked you.

_Don't you have a father? It's not a surprise. Who'd want to marry such a loud woman?_

You then swore in front of your teacher that you'd do everything you could to never hurt such a beautiful, delicate thing called a woman.

* * *

That day never left you. It's what prompted you to get married to Meredith, because you wouldn't let her raise your daughter alone. It's why you tried so hard to make it work with her, and with Gina. It's why you vowed to wait as long as it took for Kate Beckett to be ready.

But somewhere along the line you blew it, or she blew it. You're not really sure anymore.

You wondered if you'd hurt her – Beckett. _It's gonna at least sting_, you told yourself and felt a small pang of guilt. But you could justify it to yourself, because she'd hurt you too. She hurt you badly. And turnabout is fair play.

So you brought that flight-attendant to the crime scene, you go out of your way to show that you're happy, show Beckett that you're moving on...because it's what she wants. _Isn't it? _

And even though your heart was full of doubts, you continued the charade.

_Does she deserve this? Yes. Yes, she does._

* * *

A little time passed and you didn't wonder anymore. 

You _knew_ you'd hurt her when you brought that bimbo around, and you were so sorry about that, but today, when you found yourself a new partner, you saw something you hadn't seen in a long time. Something which reminded you a lot of the woman who crashed your book launch party almost five years ago.

She was less self-assured and constantly looking to her Mother's ring; her eyes had lost their natural sparkle, she seemed a bit off, and one time you caught her staring vacantly at your empty chair.

_But still you couldn't bring yourself to make amends. Because she deserved it._

_Doesn't she? _

* * *

It was 3am when your phone rang for the 20th time. You ignored it for the first 19, knowing it wouldn't be your former partner, because she'd stopped trying to call you after you ignored her for _God-knows-how-long_.

And then that flight attendant started bombing your phone with messages and calls that made you shudder. It made you even less receptive to picking up the phone.

When you eventually brought yourself to look at your phone, it was Kate's smiling face that lit up your screen, and you looked at it for a second to absorb everything _(oh, how you've missed her)_, because you were so sleepy and not quite understanding. But then the confusion is gone, replaced by panic, because who the fuck called at 3 in the morning if it was not important?

_Fuck._

You cursed, because you wanted to hate her for driving you crazy and for leaving you clueless. She made you look like a fool, and those pitying your family have given you every single day this month are starting to get old.

The worst part was every part of her was still pretty much everywhere. Her scent – you didn't bother to find out the reason – was always around you. Even after working with Ethan Slaughter, you still found yourself ordering two coffees every morning – you ended up leaving them cold.

When you accepted her call, there was no sound for a long time. Not her beautiful voice, not an unwatched TV (does she even have a TV?), not anything, until a loud sob filled your ears, followed by her uneven breath sounds.

* * *

You heard him trying to catch his breath before saying, "15 minutes, Beckett."

Three words. Three simple words, hell, it was only one word; the other two are numbers and your name. It wasn't as meaningful as the words he told you that day in the cemetery, but that little promise was just so pure, and spontaneously said – even after he ignored you for weeks.

Self-realization was the funniest thing that happened that night; because just then you realized your "Words don't matter, action does" way of life was wrong.

Sometimes, words _do_matter. Sometimes, they're everything.

_15 minutes, Beckett._

You had no idea why you sobbed. No, you had no idea.

All you remembered was, you couldn't sleep. You got lost in memories - your Mother kissing your forehead before tucking you in, Sunday mornings conversations with your mom and your dad as a family, Sunday mornings after her death – how everything was just empty and your dad acted like you were not worth living for.

And so you reached for your phone, and found yourself hitting speed dial number three. You remembered when he borrowed it several months back, mentioning something about saving Alexis' new numbers, but instead you caught him saving his own number to the speed dial.

_"Number three, because I know your father and Lanie are more important to you. No, it's ok. I'm ok being number three. What's not okay is you have to scroll hundreds of your contacts just to reach me."_

_You weren't ready to tell him yet that he's been number one for a long time. _

* * *

You didn't know how many traffic laws you'd broken that early morning. You didn't care about people angrily beeping at you from the bubble of their cars, you didn't care. You didn't even understand where your anger had gone, nor did you feel the need to have it back.

All that mattered was, she needed you.

And, any progress in moving on you had made since last month had just gone with the wind. You were right back where you started; _hopelessly in love with Kate Beckett._

Your Kate had never been a crier. Not when you two fought. Not when you pulled away from her. Or at least, she'd find a place where she could cry without anyone noticing.

But you had seen her cry before. Over Dick Coonan, over Captain Montgomery. You also knew she had been crying when you came to her apartment that afternoon; bringing her flowers after the captain had kicked her out. And whenever it happened, you prayed. You prayed to God to protect her from the evils in this world, because you couldn't understand how someone so small albeit strong thought she could carry the weight of the world without sharing the burden?

She only cried when it was really bad, let alone decided to call you. So when you answered her call, you couldn't help but to panic.

You looked at your watch. Sixteen minutes. Not bad.

You knocked, knocked again, three times, until she opened the door.

She was wearing her PJs. Her face make-up free, made her look younger and if he didn't know better he'd swear he was seeing her 19-year-old self. As seen this afternoon, her cheeks had lost their colour. She gave you a forced-smile, but her expressive eyes couldn't fool you – not only were they bloodshot, but a hint of sadness was there, too. Her hands were clasped together as if she was protecting herself from the world. She wore her hair up, a bit messily, but she had never looked more beautiful to you.

"Kate?" You were looking at her from head to toe. "What's wrong?"

You watched her as she shook her head; her _i-can-do-this-alone_ face was back in place in no time. Who knew she was such an actress?

"Nothing. You should probably go back home." Her voice quivered, something you couldn't miss.

"Beckett-"

"No, you need to go back home. It's only 4.20, Alexis might be wondering where you are. Go." She pushed you with her small hands, but you didn't flinch. You were a hell lot stronger than she thought. But that was when you noticed her heat was radiated through your skin.

You put the back of your palm on her forehead. "How long have you been sick?"

She looked as surprised as you did. "I - I'm not sick, Castle."

"Well you definitely have a fever here." You pointed out. "Where's the thermometer? When was the last time you ate something? What are your symptoms?"

You were the one who forced her to eat on her busy days, who forced her to sleep on sleepless nights at the precinct and who pretended that Alexis had already eaten so you '_didn't want to waste your daughter's lunch'._ You were the one who silently checked the amount of Advil and vitamin pills in her desk, making sure she didn't run out of them, despite her telling you to stay out of her drawers. You felt very responsible for her health, and you couldn't help thinking this was your fault.

You tried to control your worries as you examined her from head to toe, once again. And you noticed how her hands were no longer clasped, they were on her stomach.

"I'll make you ginger ale, now go back to bed." You commanded. You were still confused with your feelings, looking at her you were angry, but when it came to her health, then nothing else mattered.

"No, Castle, we need to talk." She was so eager about talking, and you know that it was gonna be one hell of a hard talk, but you didn't want it to happen while she was sick. It wasn't fair on you. You know you'd end up backing down for her.

She looked even paler in that moment, cold sweat beading on her forehead, so without thinking you just took her in your arms. You expected her kicking you in resistance or something, but it never happened and she let you pick her up. You laid her down gently on her bed, afraid she might break.

* * *

You forgot the last time you were sick and had somebody else worried about it. You could almost swear the only one who ever panicked when you were sick was your mother. No one else ever cared enough.

You almost never got sick when you were with Sorenson; your only ex you had thought of one day one time you did, he was away. Inteviewing for the job that would eventually break your relationship apart.

Demming stopped by to give you the medicine you needed, and then left, afraid to overstep your carefully constructed boundaries.

When it came to Josh - you were not allowed to get sick with him. _"I'm not gonna risk infecting my patients, Kate,"_ he said. So when you were sick that night, he sent you a get-well-soon text.

Castle would do anything for you; you knew that more than anything. Deep down you've always known it. But what you didn't understand was, even though you and he were not exactly on good terms lately – or even on speaking terms – he was here. He was mad at you – because of something you didn't know yet, and there he was - treating you as if you were the most precious thing in his world.

And then he took you in his arms and suddenly you felt your chest tighten; because you couldn't remember the last time you'd been this physically close to him. And you were almost sure that was the last time you would ever see him. That this was probably the last time he'd ever look at you that way.

You swore then you would do anything to fix whatever it was you had to fix.

_**In case you were wondering where the flaws gone to, it's because the magic of Leigh, my dear friend who offered to help me correcting my grammatical errors (and adding beautiful sentences also). Leigh, you're amazing. Thank you.**_


	2. Chapter 2

It was weird for you, the way the things you found adorable in Kate Beckett annoyed the hell out of you if they were done by other women. The way she bit her lip when she was nervous or when she was concentrating on her case, for example. You found it very cute, but you didn't always used to. One time when Gina did it, you couldn't help but think, "What the hell are you doing?"

Another example was the way she sang loudly when her favorite song came up on the radio. She has a good voice too, though she kept it pretty quiet for a while. You were having a bad day because both Gina and Paula were conspiring to send you on a national tour and you just didn't feel like it. But being thoughtful as Kate Beckett always was, she asked you to 'accompany me because I'm hungry and Lanie has had her lunch'. To your surprise, she let you drive for the first time ever, even though it was just a fifteen-minute ride.

She commanded you to wind down the windows, and then she turned up her music player. The next thing you knew, everyone on the street was looking at you because she sang the song loudly, her body moved in perfect synchronization with the music, her hands kept time on the dashboard as if it was a drum, her feet tapping as a metronome, and her voice was just perfect.

All in all, it was the best ride you'd ever been on.

And you'd do anything to make her do that again, but even when you pretended to be tired or mad or something, she knew. She always knew.

You loved Kyra with all your heart once. You loved her as much as you loved writing, and you were almost sure that she was the one. But even then, you didn't really like the way she sang out loud in public because it embarrassed you, how the pitch was not right at all.

It was impossible to find anyone being sick cute and you'd always been one of those typical male species who tried to keep their distance from getting ill. In that moment, unconsciously rubbing your former partner's back while she was dry heaving, you had the urge to wrap her in your arms and hold her tightly. You never wanted to let her go, protecting her from the world, or just simply take her to the ER right away, even though you knew it was clearly just a bad case of the flu.

You felt so helpless when you saw her small frame shudder from the effort it took to throw up, and you sat there with her for the longest time, until she was eventually expelling nothing but stomach acid.

"Are you done?" You asked as she flushed the toilet. She laid her face on the edge of the toilet seat instead, not answering your question. You moved beside her, trying to get her attention.

"Kate, it's not exactly hygienic leaning your face to the seat," You tried not to laugh when she rolled her eyes at you, because as much as you felt bad for her, you found her very adorable.

She pouted, and then snapped at you. "Don't tell me what to do."

You couldn't hold it anymore, you laughed because it was somehow the cutest thing you've ever seen. Her hand was suddenly twisting your ear, when you heard her being whiny for the first time in your shared history. "Castle, why are you laughing? I'm sick."

* * *

You didn't know what you did wrong (or right), but then he kissed you on the top of your head and placed a cool washcloth against the back of your neck.

"Feel better, Kate," he murmured. His face red from laughing too much; you were even sure you spotted a tear in the corner of his eyes – but then his serious face was back in an instant.

You believed you read him as well as he wrote about you. He may be a writer, but you're a cop and reading people is part of your job description. You're damn good at it too.

That was the reason you were so confused, because you usually knew him, and suddenly you were almost cut out from his life. He found a thousand reasons to avoid you every day, and you didn't knew why. It was like he was going out of his way to be the self-centered, immature jackass you first knew.

But then when you almost gave up on trying, he came, he took care of you, and kissed your head like nothing had happened. Suddenly you mattered to him again.

He gave his right hand to you to help you stand up. You grasped it, and let him lead you to your bed again.

"Uh, I think the ginger-ale is starting to lose its fizz. Let me make another one, this one is for me."

"No, Castle. I need it now."

"Wait a minute, Beckett, please?" He insisted. He came back minutes later with a glass of ginger-ale and a straw in his hand.

He often stared at you, but this time he had this weird expression on his face while staring you sipping your drink. You couldn't put an emotion on it – the expression – but it wasn't familiar.

You laid back on the bed because your head suddenly was too heavy, and immediately regretting the movement and soon feeling that all too familiar sick feeling.

He must've had noticed it, because he picked up on it instantly. "Easy, Kate...You feeling sick again?"

"Yeah..." You were just too ill to feel embarrassed. "Talk to me?"  
You needed something to took your mind off.

He must've thought about another talk because you saw him stiffened right before his eyes. "Kate, I told you we can talk later-"

" - Not that talk. Just to distract me so I won't end up in front of the toilet again."

His eyes softened on your explanation. "Right. So, how about that Simon Hunt guy? Is he your type?" He wondered, and if you'd been feeling any better you'd have rolled your eyes.

On the contrary, your stomach started to churn and you're weren't sure whether to put it down to the illness or the awkward direction the conversation was taking.

"He was fine. And I…I don't know, honestly." You didn't understand why men often ask things like this. Josh asked the same question about Castle, during the course of your relationship.

Although when you thought about it all over again, that should hardly have come as a surprise. As much as you said you did everything you could to make it work, the one person you couldn't lie to was yourself and you realized your relationship had been screwed up since the very start.

It should have been obvious to you when you started telling your ex-boyfriend about your partner's family, achievements, jokes, and when you've stopped laughing, you realized that Josh wasn't even smiling.

"I have this bad feeling about him, so no. I don't really like that guy either," Castle admitted.

"Yeah, you never liked any men who happened to be around me." It was supposed to be a throwaway comment, an offhand joke as you remembered his jealousy over the Alex Conrad incident. Oh, not to forget "Schlemming" and "dr. Motorcycle Boy".

"Hey, that's not true! I'm a man too, you know. I like me!"

You couldn't help but to laugh, especially because of the mock hurt in his voice. "Well it's a good thing I'm still a one-writer girl then, Castle." The words slipped out before you really thought them through, but in the end you were glad. Because after that things felt more normal then than they had in weeks.

* * *

She laughed at your joke, and it was the most beautiful thing you'd ever heard. You thought you were being too cheesy, but when you thought about it all over again, she didn't seem to mind so it was okay.

"It's a good thing I'm still a one-writer girl then, Castle." You didn't know what to make of this, especially after the past few weeks; especially after the way you had behaved towards her. You didn't deserve her praise and it stung. What if you were wrong?

She stifled a yawn between her unstoppable infectious laugh, and you couldn't help yourself from laughing with her.

"Ok, you're officially exhausted." You looked at her table-clock. It was almost six in the morning and you guessed she hadn't slept since she came home from the precinct.  
"Sleep, Kate. I'm not taking a no," you added, when she looked set to protest.

You tucked her in for the second time that day. She was seconds away from falling asleep, fighting her eyelids that got even heavier.

"Stay." When she spoke, her voice was so soft you almost missed it.

You wanted nothing more than to hold her in your arms that night, but you knew you shouldn't. You knew you couldn't do that to yourself and to her. You two deserved better than empty promises, and you were smart enough to know that.

* * *

You asked yourself – When was the last time you lived in the moment, like really lived? Not thinking about anything else; not thinking about work, not about your past, or even worse, your future.

Like that time when you made that stick-man with your Dad at Coney Island. Like that time when you sang Piano Man with your second family. Like the way you eagerly absorbed every page, when you read one of his books. When you felt like nothing else outside of that moment mattered.

And that feeling was there when he tucked you in, covering your hand gently with his as if he was telling you to hold on, to trust yourself and to trust him. He looked at you like you were the only thing he knew - a slight concern was there, too. His blue eyes comforted you in some way, encouraging you to sleep.

In that moment, you didn't think about the possibility of losing him for the first time that day. You ignored your fear about expressing your need in words. You weren't begging, you weren't asking for sympathy, you just said what you had to say.

"Stay."

He tried to cover it up, but you saw the moment his eyes widened. But it was only for a second, because he spent the rest of the time looking straight to your eyes, even though you knew he wasn't seeing you anymore. He was elsewhere, probably trying to decide.

"I'm not taking a no for an answer either. " This time you said it loud and clear.

He smiled in return. "Sleep, Kate." Your reluctance to sleep must have showed, because he reached out a hand and slid it down your arm, squeezing your hand through the blanket.

"I'll still be here when you wake up."

* * *

**_Tadaaaaa! This actually seems like a good stop, but then I think I owe you the 'talk'. Should I continue or should I mark this as complete? Oh, and thanks for the constructive critics, plus thank you Leigh for being the best beta ever. You're awesome. _**


	3. Chapter 3

You left her door open so she could easily go in case she needed to go the bathroom. She was finally letting herself sleep after you told her that you would stay, that you would be there when she woke up.

It had been three hours since, and you were constantly going to her room to check if her temperature had gone down. You watched as the tips of her fingers curled tightly on the corners of the blanket, as if she was afraid someone was actually going to steal it. You watched as her position slowly changed from her sleeping-beauty style to the point where she almost fell and you had to straighten her feet back. You noticed that she let out a snore probably every thirty minutes, and you thought to yourself that you could seriously get used to this.

You corrected yourself – you left her door open simply because you needed to see her.

When you weren't checking at her, you mostly tried to find entertainment because you knew she wouldn't like you being creepy. Even though she turned out having a TV, she had it in her room, and you didn't have the gut to wake her with the noise. You wanted to read, but most of her books were yours, and the rest were also crime novels and he didn't feel like it.

Your eyes landed to an old radio of hers in the living room. So you turned it on instead, setting the volume as low as it could get, but made sure it was still enjoyable to hear.

You were the writer. You wanted to know the whole story. Even as a kid, you never did once skipped a page of a book. So when you clicked "Play" and what you got is a halfway-through-song, you wanted to know the first verse. You wanted to understand the song.

Nothing happened when you made the effort to repeat the song. The mix continued, and after times of trying, you gave up and just listen – that apparently wasn't enough, because you only realized after the mix had repeated from the beginning - that the songs were way too familiar.

You only remembered some of them, but you were sure those were some of the songs she often played in her car in recent times, including that time she was trying to cheer you up, that night after he was being held as hostage, or that quiet evening after your case with your former character inspiration Sophia Turner.

You've always thought she had it shuffled from her many song collections, but when you thought about it all over again, the order of the songs had never changed.

Her music taste wasn't bad, you really enjoyed the songs. But there was this one song you liked so much that actually turned out to be the first song you heard earlier, and when you clicked the repeat button again – forcing your luck – the cassette deck opened.

And you saw your name written on the cassette.

* * *

You were conscious, though your eyes weren't open. Something inside you wanted to stay that way – because waking up meant _talking_. And it was funny because you swore yesterday you wanted everything to be cleared; you wanted the talk so much so you could have whatever you and your partner had back – but then you realized this talk could go ugly. Opening your eyes would mean that you had to face the day.

You were so nervous that your hands and feet went ice cold, so cold it reminded you that very cold evening in his arms, locked up in a freezer, fighting to stay awake. You were just scared of what would happen if everything didn't go well, though. It didn't cross your mind that he might not be there when you woke up, because Richard Castle was so many things, but he never did broke a single promise in your shared history with him.

A gleam of light shone through the gap of your closed brown curtains. You figured Castle did it because it was still closed when you fell asleep, so it wouldn't bring you headache when you wake up. You sat carefully, afraid that the movement made the sick feeling back, but it never happened.

You walked out of your room, trying to find the figure of him - the blue eyes that never failed to drown you, the strong arms that made you feel so safe, his soft hands that made you feel brave when you hold them,

You must've been so hungry that you thought you smell something from your kitchen, but instead you found him in your living room, pushing every buttons possible of your old radio.

"Castle, I-"

"-Kate, is everything alright?" He interrupted, walking closer to you, pressing his cool hands to your neck and then your forehead. "You're still quite warm, but at least the temperature is down," he added.

"I feel so much better." You assured him. You guessed he didn't believe you because then he checked your temperature again, with the other hand this time.

"But it's been a day, and the last time I checked, I swear the fever was gone. I should've checked with a thermometer, should've woken you up…" You watched him pacing the room. Was that…was he blaming himself? How - when he was so gentle with you?

"Hey, Castle? I feel okay, honestly." You reassured him. He looked at you suspiciously.

"You're no longer nauseous?"

You shook your head. "No, not really."

"Do you think you can eat something now? I made you spaghetti; I only need to re-heat it."

"Yeah, but after you told me what were you doing with my old radio."

You threw a disgusted look to her radio. "I only tried to repeat a song. It frustrated me! Why are you still keeping it?"

She looked at you with furrowed brows, her beautiful green eyes shone. And you thought, maybe, _maybe_, she was really feeling better. Somehow it warmed your heart.

"You can't…you can't repeat, Castle. It's either you move forward or start over…that, if you wanted to hear that song again."

The words just innocently fell from her mouth like that, and somehow you felt like she wasn't talking about the broken radio.

"Why don't you get a new one?" You asked, because if you were being honest, if the radio was yours, it would've been in your trash by now.

"Just because of a small damage? That won't be necessary," she walked to her radio, running her thumb over the radio gently, and then you saw the moment her eyes widened, her. She took the cassette with her hand, the cassette you accidentally seen. "You…you've seen this?"

You nodded. You wanted her to tell you everything, but you didn't want anyone to be uncomfortable. "I saw my name. Want to tell me about it?"

"That's just a cassette under your name, no other story. You can have it if you want." Her voice was choked, and you were afraid you've crossed the line.

She had a cassette under your name with the songs she often played. You didn't know what to think about it, you didn't even know what was the pair of you doing. You were about to answer when you saw her opening what seemed like a handmade that turned out to be a box with her parents' original-sized wedding picture attached on the cover with - that she brought out from the drawer under the radio.

She opened it carefully, and then you saw boxes of cassettes with labels in it. Each had a paper, probably the song-list. A cassette box was empty, and you automatically figured it was yours.

When you saw the names written on the labels she glued, you finally understood. There were her mom's, her dad's, her grandpa's, "the 12th"...those cassettes were basically every fragment of her life.

"These are only a few. I have playlists of everyone else in my iPod, so I can play them anytime. The cassettes are only for those people who are constant in my life." And it included you. You were constant in her life. You were always there.

"I know my mom and my grandpa are no longer here, but they never wanted to go, you know? If…" She didn't finish her sentence, and you understood why. You didn't know if she did it in purpose, but you were sure her hands moved to her heart, and you wondered - how could a woman be so beautiful, in every part of her?

"…But you can have this. I can convert it to another cassette anytime, I have a friend." She took the cassette box and put your cassette back in, handing it to you.

"But if you don't have cassette player - I mean they're literally outdated - I can convert it to CD -" How was she overwhelmed too, when it was supposed to be only you? When she was so beautiful, so thoughtful, so…perfect?

" - Kate, it's fine. It's perfect, actually. Thank you."

She tried to collect her breath. "Okay. So, you said...we're gonna talk, right? Right. I have my health back. I'm..."

She was on the edge of hyperventilating. This was going to be hard for her and for _you. _"Kate…breath. Breath, ok? You're gonna be fine. We'll get through this."

* * *

He had encouraged you to breath, and so you breathed. You were so grateful that you got yourself together pretty quick, otherwise it would turn into a panic attack and you'd reveal way so much to him in less than 24 hours than the last four years.

"I'm gonna get the spaghetti now, ok? I'll be back." He rose from the couch, patted your shoulder, and that's when you thought you've screwed this up. The pair of you weren't even _talking_ and you've already on the edge of having a panic attack.

He came back ten minutes later, bringing what it's like two plates of spaghetti and a milkshake.  
"Eat all. I doubt you've eaten and it's my fault that you didn't eat earlier." He put everything on the table.

You should've told him something that made him stop blaming himself, but instead your ego spoke again.

"We're not – we're not gonna talk?" You silently cursed to the fact that your voice shook, that you had to ask the question at all.

He stopped eating for a second and looked at you confidently, fork still hanging in the air. "We will. But we won't do it with empty stomach, ok?"

You gave him a nod, but he was still looking at you intensely. "Kate, you know everything's gonna be ok, right?"

This was the second time he asked you that, you wondered if you really looked that overwhelmed. You shrugged, "I surely hope so."

Unlike the usual, this time everything fell into an uncomfortable silence. You were thinking too much, you knew he was thinking too much, so much things were happening in that moment without words involved.

One thing you were always proud of on your partnership with him was there were no such things as uncomfortable situation. The evenings you spent at the Remy's with him, for instance. You and he would order the same regular drink – vanilla milkshake for you, hot cappuccino for him – a drink that you'd often try to steal but he'd notice and say "Not good for you, Beckett. Got too much caffeine in your system."

He would have bought an extra burger for you even though you said no – and insisted to pay for it. He'd always requested for you two to sit beside the window, facing each other, but recently you accidentally brought up the Raglan shooting and he never wanted you two to sit beside the window again since.

He would bring his laptop, the sound of him typing what could be Nikki & Rook were surrounding you while you do your paperwork, or read some books in your free times. You two were so busy with each other's business, and then there were times where your eyes found his at the same time, both of you shared smiles and continue working.

Sometimes you or he would fall asleep purposely, mostly him, but it had never been awkward. When you finished with your work you would wake him, wait him to finish his drink, and then go back to the precinct or home instead.

That moment, you wanted more than anything that he'd say something to break the silence. But once he did, you regretted your wish.

"So…the songs in the cassette," he cleared his throat, "are they about me…or for me?"

* * *

**TRACK #6**  
**All I Know**  
**(Five For Fighting)**

_I bruise you, you bruise me  
We both bruise so easily  
Too easily to let it show  
I love you and that's all I know_

* * *

**_Sorry that you haven't read the talk yet (so very sorry, this chapter just happens), and sorry for the long wait. The proxy I used suddenly stopped working and this site is blocked again in my country, I just found another proxy this very time. Btw, so very grateful with the constructive reviews, sorry I haven't found the time to thank you one by one. All the mistakes are mine, and if you're expecting 'that' M scene then you won't get it. I'm fifteen, I have no…experience…  
_**


	4. Chapter 4

When you saw her hyperventilating – an act by her you've never seen before – it killed you to know that it was caused by you. It killed you to watch her like that, and you knew more than anything that this could get worse because the talk you and she headed was everything but easy.

So, doing the best you could, you started the conversation without really starting it.

"The songs in the cassette," you cleared your throat, "are they about me…or for me?"

"I don't know," she stated, but she answered too quickly for you to believe. "Neither, I think. Not about you, not for you…" her eyes looked calmer than earlier, "but what remind me of you."

_What remind me of you? _You started to wonder if you weren't there enough for her that she felt the need to have something to remind her of you. "Why do you need something to remind you of me…when I'm with you almost every day a week?"

Instead of answering, she only gave you a small smile. She shook her head and asked you not to ask about it, which made you even more curious. But you really didn't want her to be uncomfortable, and being the gentleman you were, you decided not to cross the line. "Okay. And what do I remind you of? The oceans? Home?" You joked, referring to the songs in _your_ cassette.

For the first time that day, you saw her smiling ear to ear. "Your eyes do remind me of it, Castle. Even though I'd rather choose Alexis' bright blue eyes," she laughed to your mocked expression. "But you do remind me of home. I think I added that song last summer."

Last summer. The summer when you spent ninety-nine percent of the time staring at your phone, expecting the worst. The summer you spent to make a bound with her father, just to know how she was doing – and you got nothing. The summer when she shut the world out, hurting alone, crying alone, and overall the worst summer you ever had.

"Why didn't you call, Kate?" _Why did you lie?_

"You wouldn't like it." Her respond was fast. "I was mad, Castle. I was angry to the world. You wouldn't like it – I couldn't even stand myself. I was in bed for the whole day but it hurt to sleep, it hurt to breathe…you really wouldn't like it."

"Well how about you stop making decisions for me?" You remembered every argument you had with her when she decided things on herself – mostly involving her safety and happiness. And nothing hurt more than watching her in pain, but you know it would hurt less if she'd allow you to help.

She stayed quiet, busying herself with the food she promised to finish, and you guessed that she wanted to skip the question again. You thought it wasn't fair to you, because you suddenly felt like you were fighting alone in this, and she still wasn't ready in any form to do this. To talk, to discuss.

"Kate-"

"Castle, Why are we like this?" She suddenly cut your sentence off, but her eyes were staring at her half-emptied plate.

"I don't understand. Like this…like what?"

She shrugged. "Like this."

"Define 'like this'."

She looked intensely at you. You knew that look. It was the look she gave you when she wanted to ask your opinion over her mother's murder, the look when she wanted to get your full attention into the conversation. "Like we don't know each other anymore, and we became distant."

You huffed a bitter laugh. "So we've been close this whole time?"

She looked hurt at your question, but then brushed it away. "Well that's how I define 'like this'. I've answered your question; you can't respond it with another."

You laughed for real. You wondered if she was being sarcastic to herself. "Go back brushing off everything you don't want to face, Kate. Run. Hide. Continue your beautiful habit of disappearing, continue being so Goddamn selfish." Those words flew freely uncensored like water, and you regretted it as soon as a big, fat tear rolled from her eyes, followed by another tear.

* * *

You knew you were everything he said, you knew it more than anything else. You had even written it in your arms once. _Selfish. _But you never expected it to hurt so much, hearing those words came from his mouth.

You had worked hard your whole year with a psychiatrist to get better for him, to be the woman you dreamed to be. To have that bright, sincere smile every other girl had – just for him. To stop hurting him so much, to stop hurting yourself.

And it fucking hurt to know that it wasn't enough.

But then you felt your left hand being lifted by his. It held yours so tight, so warm, and so strong that you almost believe you could go through this. That you could go through everything.

His thumb wiped away your tears gently – no one had ever wiped your tears before – and then he kissed your forehead for the third time that day, looking at you straight in the eyes. "You promised me you would finish your food."

Your heart warmed at his playful blue eyes, and you let out a smile.  
"I definitely will."

You saw him stiffened at your shaking voice.

His hand never left your hand.

You ate some more, and then when you felt like you've gathered yourself, you answered his question.  
"I know you." Your voice was so thin that you didn't know if you could convince him, because you weren't even sure of what you said. "I know you. You're an amazing father, an amazing partner – an amazing best friend, you're-" you paused to take a breath -"You're my constant."

You knew you indirectly said it earlier, but you felt so proud saying it right to him. Maybe you _did_ make a progress. "And I'm so grateful that you give me the chance to get to know you. I hope I do you the same."

"Define 'constant'." He chose to ignore your last sentence.

"Oh God, Castle, why do you always have to be the writer?" You felt your eyes started to water again. "You're always here. You never left, even when I'm so…"

_Don't say it. Don't say it_. You tried to hold the word. But he needed to know.

"…damaged goods. When I'm so broken. Especially this past year, but you never left. That should've meant something, right? You could've left, yet here you are." He looked angry when you said it.

"You're not damaged goods." He stated firmly. His grip on you was starting to hurt.

"Castle -"

He dropped his fork. The sound of it made you flinched, but he looked like he didn't even notice. "- Can we just please skip this? Just…please." His breath was getting heavier the way you did earlier, and you were afraid he was going to have a panic attack, too.

You couldn't have both of you like _that._

"Castle, it's okay. Try to breath. Just breathe slowly." Your thumb rubbed circles on his hand. He just shook his head, probably trying to process of what just happened.

"I'm gonna get you some water."

"No. I'm okay, I'm fine. No need to. I'm gonna be alright." He sounded like he was trying to convince you, but you couldn't be fooled. You said things like that all the time, and mostly you were trying to convince yourself.

You found it funny how people often say things they don't mean.

And you started to think how many words he had said to you that he didn't really mean – including those three words he said as your blood oozing from your wound.

* * *

She once asked to you in the middle of your Remy's visit – "Why is it - the older we are, the more we feel? Not that I don't want to feel. It's just that there are some new feelings I hope I never felt."

When you asked what feelings they were, she answered "Fear, high-hopes, and doubts, Castle. They're annoying. Don't they have any other place to live instead of my brain?"

You told her that it was just the way it was. That somehow those feelings were factors that made her more mature. You also told her that someday she doesn't have to feel by herself, that in fact everyone will meet someone to share those feelings with.

"Doesn't that make us a bad person? Sharing unpleasant feelings with someone we care about? What if they drown with us? Isn't that unfair?" She was becoming more serious that you actually feel the need to ignore the words on your laptop.

"Why do you ask these so suddenly?" You could see her not moving a bit, still staring at you with the confusion she had.

"Okay, this might be hard to believe, but you have to trust me, Kate. It's not about fair and unfair. It's not even about you or that 'someone'. It's about finding comfort."

"How come?" You remembered her asking it with her sounds muffled from the multiple fries she just popped in.

"Uh…Alright, have you ever felt like someone else's problem is yours too? Like you have the urge to help them, but it's not only for their sake. It's also…"

She nodded, and then cut off your words knowingly. "…for my sake. Because I can only be okay if they are. I can only sleep peacefully if they do."

"Exactly."

She stared at you for the longest time, her eyes nothing but glowing, and then she mouthed a thank-you. You didn't know what she thanked for. You probably would never know. But you could believe she gave you a small smile, so warm even though it's not her ear-to-ear smile.

What you knew was, you loved her, and she was that person to you. She was the person you'd kill for. That was why it caused you a chest pain when she said something about _damaged goods_ and _broken._ You wondered if you weren't there enough for her. _You wondered if you made her felt that way._

"I'll be fine," you said it once again. "I'll be fine. But you can ban those words and never say it again. Especially not to define who you are, because you, Katherine Beckett, are extraordinary, and don't you dare to tell me otherwise."

She looked at you questioningly, but then just smiled it out. "Okay."

For the second time that day, you crossed the line and kiss her forehead again. "I'm sorry. I needed it."

You never had someone hugged that tight other than Alexis.

* * *

You two had finished your food and he insisted to do the dishes, saying that he didn't want you to be dizzy for the long standing-up, but when he took time to do the dishes thrice than it supposed be, you were sure he just needed his little space as much as you needed yours.

When he came back, walking slowly from the kitchen with his eyes studying you, you pretended not to know. You've always pretended to not know. Not when he was staring at you when you ate, when he silently took your photo while you were _seriously_ focused on your paperwork, when he smiled at you with pride every time you arrested a suspect…when he concluded his feelings with three beautiful words that afternoon in the cemetery.

You've only said those words to another guy but your dad once. They were for Sorenson, a guy you thought you'd grow old with. When you said it, so clear in front of him in the middle of a date, it was because you just found out how special the way he made you feel in that very moment. You never said it again to him since – you didn't even think of it.

With Richard Castle, you believed the young you would have said _the words_ five times a day.

"I'm sorry about earlier, Kate. You're not selfish. I'm sorry." He broke the silence.

"No, you're right. It wasn't fair to you. I was only protecting my own feeling and didn't think about the people around me. I just didn't think my presence mattered that much."

"Well, you were wrong." He bowed his head, taking his cassette, bouncing it in his hands and then stood up, as if he was leaving you anytime soon – but stopped right away. "Are we done here, or there are still things you want to say?"

"Well…There are. Things I want to say, I mean. We haven't talked, Castle. This feels like a question session."

He shrugged. "Talk."

You let out a breath. You wished all the nervousness would go with the exhaling. "What did I do wrong, Castle? Why does every second we spend feel like the last?"

"Um…Why does this feel like a question session?" He returned your words, making you roll your eyes.

"I feel like I'm losing my best-friend, and I don't know why. I feel like I've done something very wrong and it kills me to not know what it is."

"Not knowing sucks," he agreed. _He agreed?_ "But maybe knowing sucks, too."

"Not as much. When I was in my father's cabin, it's nice knowing that everyone's safe out there. My dad, my team, Martha, Alexis…you. It kept me sane. I'm sorry I couldn't do you the same."

She mentioned that summer a thousand times like it was okay. She said 'sorry' again and again as if to made you feel any better, while all she did was reminding you of how much drinks you had.

"Better not be a next time."

* * *

Her small hands reached out yours, the way that you did earlier. "Promise me something."  
She never sounded any more sure. "You'll do anything, as long as it doesn't hurt you, to never ever let me run again. To never shut you out again, to always be open to you. I…I need you, Castle."

She was so precious, _too_ precious for you. "I promise."

She smiled at you; she smiled so much that day, but never really enough for you. You'd do everything in the world to make her smile. You'd never stop.

"So…do you forgive me now? I mean I know I've tried to explain it to you after your signing session, but I understand the pain is still there."

_Oh – she thought it was about the summer?_

You wanted to let this go, wanted to just hold her in your arms again and say _the words_ once again, wanted to feel her warm breath against your neck, but you couldn't. You needed to get this cleared out.

You were her partner. Her constant.

But after all, you never knew how she felt about you.

* * *

_Author Note: If I don't stop it right here then it would be like 6000 words long and I don't want that…And I know this chapter bores you because it also bores me, so I'm sorry xD I'm open to any idea! All mistakes are mine.  
Anyway, sorry (again) that I just found the time to reply your review! They mean the world to me…thank you _


	5. Chapter 5

There were a lot of times you felt so relieved – but never _this_ relieved. Never knew how letting the words out could make you so happy, so free inside.

Never knew that the feeling could be gone in a second.

"Kate, I've fully forgiven you about that summer a long time ago. If I'm still mad about it, I would never go back to the precinct. I would never go back to you."

"Not…Not about the summer?"

You saw him shaking his head slowly, you could almost see pity in his eyes.

"Will you ever tell me?" The feel of desperation came right away; it made your head spin all over again. You just wanted everything to be back normal, wanted him to just bring you coffee every morning again with a smile that could light up the whole room, wanted him to text you with his usual _What-Would-Nikki-Do_ every night and tease him with it instead, wanted his crazy theories all to yourself.

In short, you were confused. You hope it didn't show that much.

"I already told you, Kate," he sighed. His blue eyes darken, and you could see him trying to hide the bitterness in his statement but failing anyway. "Maybe you didn't remember. But maybe you did."

Realization sunk in in a matter of second.

You were right. _Self-realization_ was the funniest thing, because realization itself was already funny as hell.

Too funny that you spent minutes just to stare at _him_, to look at him from head to toe, and finally you found the hurt in his eyes, smelled the whiskey in his breath, noticed the way he didn't fix his hair when he could - which he never did because _"I'm proud of my hair, Beckett,"_.

Funny; the fact that you didn't even consider that it was the reason.

"Castle," you tried to find a stronger word than 'sorry'. And you were about to add two 'very' in front of the 'sorry', but they couldn't come out from your mouth. Not even one. What you said instead was, "I hurt you."

He gave you a nod in response to your statement. "You hurt me."

"I'm so sorry, Castle." You could feel tears swimming in the corner of your eyes, but you promised yourself not to cry – not again.

"I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry that you have to be in a situation where you felt like you had to hide all of this from me." You expected a hint of sarcasm in his eyes, but he what you saw was pure sincerity.

"Castle-"

He took a step back. "No, I understand. You tried not to hurt me."

"Yes, I – I never have the intention to hurt you. Not at all."

"Yes?" He asked quietly, a bit surprised.

"Yes. I didn't want to hurt you."

He never looked so sad to you. "I expected it, but since you confirmed it…As much as I'd love to, I can't be here. I can't keep coming back. Thank you for the past four years, Kate."

You were ready. You were ready, and he was leaving.

* * *

You said _I-love-you_ to her once. Only once, and it wasn't right. The timing, the situation…it just slipped out, but you couldn't help but saying it. Not because you knew she was dying, but because she never stopped reminding you about how extraordinary she was. In everything she did, in every breath she took, she was this brave, smart woman, with the personality no one could ever have.

And when she looked to you in the middle of her eulogy, acknowledging you as her 'someone willing to stand with', something in your heart changed. You liked her, you always had, but that very moment, you realized what you felt was more than just 'like'. It was something that, if you think about it all over again, wasn't new.

So when she said she lied because she didn't want to hurt you, she couldn't say _I don't love you_ in front of your face, you understood. She only tried to find the right time and situation to say it to you. Not like you.

"What – what confirmation? And why are you saying goodbye?" The tears she had tried to keep slowly falling.

"Why am I saying goodbye?!" You were practically yelling. "Do you really think I can work together with you, for what, four more years and knowing we don't love each other? That we could never be more than just…dammit, partners?!"

You took a deep breath, trying to control your anger, but what it did was just making you more angry.

"It will hurt the both of us, Kate. So stop being such a child, grow up like you told me to, and face the fact that this, whatever we have here, is over. It's over. Partners, plucky sidekick, best-friend, whatever it is, it's over."

It took her minutes to thought through what you said, one by one, to finally realize that you meant every word. She slowly looked at your eyes, the confidence she had earlier was fading. It was almost like someone had slapped her on the face.

"We don't love each other –?"

You shrugged. "We don't love each other."

The next thing you knew, she threw a fist to your chest, as if she wanted to return the pain. The punch didn't hurt at all, didn't even made you flinch. "Hey, what's all of this?"

She wiped her tears with the palm of her hands. "I have a psychiatrist. I tried to be good enough for you. I tried to be ready for you. You broke down my wall, but now you're trying to build it again. That's what's 'all of this' is about."

"You're always good enough for me, Kate. I told you, you're extraordinary. You're more than good enough. Don't ever think otherwise. Which part of it you don't understand?"

"I'm good enough for you, but you don't love me anymore." she gave you a sad smile. "Is that it?"

"What? No! I…I love you. I love you." You love her_. How could she think otherwise?_ You ran a finger through your hair, looking at the frustrating woman in front of you.

Her eyes enlarged. "You do?!"

"Where was that idea came from? Of course I do."

"But then why did you say we didn't love each other, if we do?"

You shook your head in confusion. "You do realize that it needs at least _two_ people to use plural, right? So that means, if I do love you and you don't, we don't love each other. That just means I love you. Unless…"  
You couldn't even think of it. _Was she really -_

"Unless?" She crossed her arms, as if challenging you to finish. You couldn't say anything but her name, and for the first time ever you finally understand what it meant to be truly speechless.

"…Kate?"

She laughed at you, maybe at the way you dropped your jaw, the way your tongue froze, or even how dumb you were this whole time. You saw the very moment she launched herself to your arms, pressing her whole body to you like you'll get your bones broken anytime soon, hands around your neck. You found yourself returning the hug, but you didn't understand. How did the both of you became -

"How did we became like this, Castle? And please don't return the question because I don't appreciate that for a second." Her breath warm on your neck.

"We didn't do what we should, that's how it happened." You answered honestly. You felt her breathing you, and then her hold at you became tighter as if she was pulling herself together.

"And if I do what I should've done, starting from this very second, will I be too late?" Her voice was a mix of hope and desperation.

"Only if I do what I should've done, starting from this very second, and you say it's too late."

She laughed again, a beautiful music to your ears. "No more assuming things without asking first,"

You repeated after her. "No more assuming things."

You weren't surprised when she tangled her feet to yours, holding you even tighter if that was even possible.

What you didn't expect was, you heard something very confident, articulate and loud right in front of your ear.

"I love you."

* * *

_the end._

* * *

**_Author Note: So I know this is short, and I'm sorry. Another sorry for disappointing some of you, turned out I can't write angst. I just can't do that to my babies, they meant to be together hahahah xD Again, sorry for how short it is….I've been busy with Eid Mubarak and everything. Btw, this is the first time I made a multichapter AND finish it! :P _****_Thank you to everyone reading this + taking time to follow this story, favorite it, and of course my very big thanks to the reviewers! You're awesome. All grammatical and character mistakes are mine._**


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